I had barely broken open, just a cracked bone
In lower extremities

And indifference loomed. I turned scientific—
Rejection has a fault. The replay happens

Because nothing replaces the loop. Not a connection
Too soon on too flimsy a thread, no honorary laughter

Interrupting, saying that seafoam isn’t the right green.
Star of scratches already

A transparent sheet over linocut. I could find
Anything to wind around a wound—

My own private pain generator inside:
What temperature. What control.